


Finding What's Lost

by waypoint



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post 5X13, Root is Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waypoint/pseuds/waypoint
Summary: In the months following Root's death, Shaw tries to find footing in her new reality.Elsewhere, a technologically advanced hospital looks after a mysterious patient.





	1. Prelude

 

 

November 3rd

 

 

After the final battle between the Machine and Samaritan, Shaw had been trying to find her routine again. It was a challenge. Perhaps one of the biggest of her life. Spending months in captivity protecting your loved ones, only to have them ripped away in the eleventh hour. It all happened so fast; It feels like just yesterday she took down Root in the park. It feels like yesterday she shot and killed Jeff Blackwell.

 

The Machine had asked her to continue working, and even gifted her with a new base of operations, as well as an apartment in Brooklyn. Originally, the two were combined but Shaw requested a separate space. She needed some time away from this new situation.

 

This new version of the Machine still uses Root's voice. Sometimes when Shaw hears it, she thinks for a moment that she's actually talking to Root on the phone. That she'll be walking through her front door in a few hours, and that she's still...

 

Well, those feelings don't last long. There are days when she can't stand to hear her voice; it's a reminder of everything she fought for and lost; her failures.

 

But other times, on extremely rare instances, her voice is the only thing that keeps Shaw going.

 

So, every day she walks Bear. Every other day she handles a number. Once a month she would check in with Fusco, though her communication had been slipping. Phone calls were becoming emails, which became quick texts, which simply began to stop. She had to try and live her life.

 

Although... she doesn't really know what that means.

 

It's almost as if her body is functioning on it's own, like she is only a spectator. Stuck in some sort of low power, autonomous state. It reminds her of having awareness inside the simulations, and she doesn't like it.

 

Her days are beginning to blur together. She gets up, runs with Bear, and... suddenly she's on the couch watching the game with bourbon in her hand. The next day is the same, and the one after that.

 

It's been 156 days since Root was killed, and Shaw isn't sure how to go on living.

 


	2. A Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fusco catches up with a friend.

 

November 18th

 

 

Leaves have fallen and lay all across the ground. In a few weeks the snow will follow. Fusco walks through Potter's field. He is carrying flowers.

 

He made the trip at least once a month. With John and Harold gone, and Shaw... well, he felt it was his duty to keep Root in the loop. Lionel reached the stone, 050313, and shook his head. She deserved to be remembered as more than just a number. And almost every visit, he told her this.

 

“Hey, Cocoa Puffs,” he knelt down and placed the flowers next to the stone. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

 

He told her anything he could think of. Cases at work, horrible traffic, the weather. Sometimes he provided her with a play-by-play from the latest Islanders game.

 

“So, Lee's on his last year of middle school. Kid can't wait to get to high school. Better sports teams, more girls, that sort of thing.” He nods to himself and looks around. There's no one else in the field. There never was.

 

“I keep trying to reach out to Shaw,” he begins, changing the subject, “but she's shutting me down. You know how she can be.” Fusco allows himself a small smile at the thought of his tiny, angry, friend.

 

“I'm worried about her. She's been darker than usual ever since...” he kneels down again. “This never gets any easier.”

 

He pauses for a moment before continuing. “You two were really something, you know that? What a pair of nut-jobs...” he laughs. He could picture Root smirking. “She really misses you.”

 

He looked around the field once more. He took in the autumn leaves lying on the ground. The cool breeze carrying them around. He wasn't one for graveyards, but he felt a calmness being here with Root. He wondered if she enjoyed the season. Maybe she was a spring kind of girl? Definitely not winter, although...

 

He took a deep breath and sighed. It wouldn't do him any good to let his mind wander. “If I could go back I... I don't know,” he paused and shook his head. “I still can't believe this.”

 

He stared at the numbers for a few moments. Her name was Root, damn it, not 050-whatever. He sighed again, “I should get going,” he stands up.

 

“I'll see you around,” he winced at the slip, although he knew she wouldn't hold it against him, “well, you know what I mean.”

 

Talking to Root here was always a challenge for him. Knowing that she'll never be able to respond again. That aspect made him hate coming here. It was so unfair.

 

He felt for Shaw, too. He saw what Root was like when she was taken at the stock exchange; at least she was able to have hope. But for Shaw, she was overcome with a feeling of helplessness, he assumed. He was certain it was eating her alive. With Root, her raw emotions drove her forward. She carved a path with furious determination trying to find Shaw. But with Shaw, she's fallen into herself; reserved, muted. He could see the turmoil in her eyes as she fell deeper into hopelessness.

 

How often did she replay their final conversation? Did she ever come here? His heart couldn't bear to think about it. Even just remembering how she looked in the morgue was enough to keep him awake at night.

 

Lionel understood that she has difficulty expressing herself, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he was there for her. They never talked about Root, or what happened. On one of his first visits to Potter's field, he promised Root that he would keep looking out for Shaw.

 

He gave one final nod to 050313 and walked away. The only thing to be heard was the whistle of wind, and the crunching of leaves.

 

On the way out, he made sure to stop and say hello to John, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this story was built off an idea I had that Fusco regularly went to Root's grave. Enjoy.


	3. Breaking Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw becomes fed up when the Machine tries to have a difficult conversation.

 

December 10th

 

 

Shaw arrived at the new safe house and hung her coat. They had began using it as their main operating center for a few months now. Since they were no longer under the constant watch of Samaritan, the Machine set up several spaces where Thornhill Industries could operate. Shaw was aware of other agents throughout the country, but no others so far in New York. Typically the Machine would summon her and provide her with the details regarding a new number. Shaw thought she could work with the Machine using Root's voice, but the last few months proved especially challenging in that aspect. She requested to be contacted via SMS for the most part now.

 

Shaw approached the small desk where her laptop was plugged in and sat down. Usually it would be populated with dossiers, but today it was just her home screen. It was a picture of Bear with a very mangled bunny slipper in his mouth.

 

“So, who's our number?”

 

“ _Actually, there isn't one,_ ” the Machine replied through the speakers in the computer.

 

Shaw took a deep breath before responding. Hearing Root's voice was... not easy. “Why am I here, then?”

 

“ _I wanted to talk to you_.”

 

“You couldn't have sent a message?”

 

“ _I needed to be sure I had your undivided attention_.”

 

She could feel her anger bubbling from the pit of her stomach. She may have tolerated these games when Root was alive, but her patience level took a steep fall after that day.

 

“Go ahead. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go home.”

 

If the Machine could sigh, Shaw thinks She would have.“ _You haven't been sleeping._ ”

 

Shaw scoffed and shook her head. It was going to be one of _those_ conversations.

 

“ _Perhaps a more worrisome matter is that you haven't been eating as much. I'm not the only one who noticed._ ”

 

Who else was there anymore. “Really?” Her words were heavy with sarcasm. 

 

“ _Even Bear has picked up on your behavior. He's becoming more lethargic as well._ ”

 

She leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. Her fuse was becoming shorter with each passing second.

 

“ _I think you should take a few days off. You've been working almost constantly. You haven't even taken time to grieve._ ”

 

Shaw looked up and stared into the camera. She hoped her glare was intense enough that the Machine would abandon this train of thought.

 

“ _It's been six months and eleven days since Samantha Groves--_ ”

 

“Stop.” Shaw warned, holding her hand out. “Don't worry about me.”

 

“ _I worry because I care_ _about you, Sameen._ ” Shaw's jaw clenched at the use of her name, “ _Just like I cared about Harold, John, and Root._ ”

 

“Bullshit.” She slammed her fists on the desk and stood up, causing her chair to clatter to the ground behind her. The noise echoed around her, but the silence that followed was even louder.

 

It was one thing for the Machine to use Root's voice, but Shaw would not stand to hear about how much She 'cared' about her. Shaw hung her head and closed her eyes.

 

“ _Sameen, please._ ”

 

“Enough,” Shaw squeezed her eyes tighter. There were times the Machine just sounded too much like Root.

 

A full minute passed. Shaw remained still.

 

“ _I loved her, too._ ” Root said softly. She sounded sad.

 

Shaw began to feel claustrophobic here with the computer. She tried to steady her breathing.

 

She shook her head and clenched her fists. How could this have happened? How could the Machine let Root die? Or Reese for that matter.

 

“ _Shaw?_ ”

 

The Machine _wouldn't_ have let Root die. She couldn't have. Root was her analog interface, her loyal follower.

 

Shaw laughed to herself. Of course. It was almost too obvious now. This was just another one of Greer's simulations. Perhaps the most perverse one yet. Root died alone. Now _Shaw_ was alone and forced to listen while the Machine used the voice of her dead friend (friend?). This was the most unfair circumstance. All that effort to protect Root, escape from the simulations, only to have her killed by some worthless nobody. Shaw didn't even get the chance to...

 

“ _Shaw._ ” Root sounded stern this time.

 

No.

 

Not Root.

 

Root couldn't speak to her anymore.

 

Shaw felt like something in her chest snapped. This simulation needed to end.

 

She grabbed the table and flipped it forward with tremendous force. She watched as the items crashed on the ground in front of her. It wasn't enough. The anger she was feeling projected outwards as she brought her boot down on her laptop.

 

She stopped and looked at the mess she made. Her ears were ringing and her throat felt raw. Had she been yelling too?

 

“I'm done with this,” she gestured around her. “All of it.”

 

She stormed towards the door, took her coat from the hanger and tore her earpiece out. She dropped it to the ground and brought her foot down on it over, and over, and over, and over.

 

After several minutes, she slammed the door shut and left with no intention of ever returning.

 


	4. Patient of Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Physicians at a California hospital discuss an odd case.

 

 

December 10 th

 

 

Doctor Sandra Lawson and her partner, Doctor Hank Morris, came to the final patient on their rounds for the evening. Together, with several other skilled physicians, they used their combined knowledge to take on unique medical cases. Their technologically advanced hospital, FairHaven, was the first of many to be build across the country.

 

“And finally we've come back to the so called 'high priority' case from the boss.” He used air quotes when he spoke. Dr Lawson handed him the digital chart.

 

“I know I've said this before, but this one really doesn't seem unique enough to be here at FairHaven.” Dr Lawson crossed her arms and regarded the patient.

 

She was quite the case. Having been brought in several months ago, each doctor has tried treatment with little success. Her medical information was mostly “classified”, and they only received details that were deemed to be relevant. The team had received very specific instructions regarding her case. It was made clear to everyone that she was to have the best care possible, and reports were filed regularly regarding her progress, or lack of.

 

“Seriously, right? Let's see here... gunshot wounds, severe internal injuries. Slipped into a coma after being treated at a...” Dr Morris scrolled through the information on his screen, “Saint Mary's Hospital in New York City. Quite the distance to travel.”

 

The woman fell into a coma after being in an “accident”. As far as Dr Lawson was concerned, however, most accidents didn't involve injuries via high powered guns.

 

“She's been here for over six months,” he continued to read from her file. “Not responding to treatment, or any kind of outside stimulation. No brain activity whatsoever. We're wasting our time here.”

 

“I'd agree with you if Thornhill wasn't so adamant that she still receive the best care possible.”

 

Dr Morris tapped his chin and looked into the room. “I wonder what's so special about her.”

 

“I don't know, but whoever Samantha Groves is, she's extremely important to someone.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea behind the hospital comes from a television show called Pure Genius. To keep it simple, I left out any of the characters from that show. That way we can keep the focus on Shaw (and Root). Enjoy!


	5. Cold Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After walking out on the Machine, Shaw wanders to an interesting place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're halfway there! Thanks for sticking with me, folks!

 

December 10 th 

 

 

Shaw walked for hours, letting her legs carry her in any direction. She didn't care; she had no place to go. It was snowing, so even though it was close to midnight, the city still seemed bright with all the white flakes around. She keeps walking, trying to concentrate on anything but the conversation the Machine tried to have with her.

 

_I loved her, too._

 

Love.

 

Shaw disliked the word; it sounded juvenile, sappy, pathetic. It made her feel weak. What she had felt for Root couldn't be put into words; it was about action. It was about protecting her. Making sure she was safe, that she had ammunition, or proper rest and medical care. It was about racing to another state to back her up. Shooting herself over seven thousand times to keep Samaritan away from her. It was about taking revenge on the bastard who killed her.

 

Shaw realized she had stopped walking. She looked around. The area was deserted, white powder covered the ground all around her with only the tips of stones peaking out.

 

She was in Potter's field. At marker 050313.

 

Shaw looked down at the stone. She didn't speak because there wasn't anything to say. She simply stood still, listening to the hush of the snow falling around her. A gentle sigh carrying the flakes downwards, with the occasional wisp of wind sending them in different directions.

 

Shaw wasn't sure how long she stood there until her phone rang. She took it out and the display read 01:43 with an unknown name calling. She silenced the ringer and put the device in her coat pocket. After a minute, it vibrated. She took the device out again and it showed a new message.

 

She didn't bother reading it, and dropped the phone back into her pocket. Shaw wasn't kidding when she told the Machine she was done. Done with Her little missions; done living in a world where Root was lying six feet beneath her. Shaw's gun felt heavy in her waistband.

 

She sighed and continued to look down at 050313. Her breath created a puff of mist that was carried forward into the night sky.

 

Her phone vibrated again, but the pulses were more precise. Morse code. 

 

_... .- -- . . -. / .--. .-.. . .- ... . / -.-. --- -- . / -... .- -.-._

 

_(Sameen please come bac--)_

 

Before the message was finished, Shaw wrenched the phone from her coat pocket and threw it as hard as she could.

 

193 days since this happened?  She was so fucking done with this simulation.

 

She draws her gun and waits.

 


	6. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Machine enlists Fusco's help on a time-sensitive mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I finished some final touches on the last chapter. I think you'll really like it, but for now enjoy this one!

 

December 11th

 

 

Lionel was startled awake by the sound of his phone ringing. He was certain it was on silent when he went to sleep. He reached over to answer it.

 

“Hello?” His voice was thick with sleep.

 

“ _Sorry to bother you so early, detective, but I need your help._ ”

 

He checked the screen. The blinding display read 1:58AM. It was so typical of Root to call in the middle of night with some silly request. That lunatic probably dropped some body that needed to be cleaned--

 

A wave of sadness hit him when he realized that he was wrong. It surprised him that after all these months, he still had moments before the reality of her death sunk in. He sat up slowly and rubbed his face with his hand.

 

“No way Shaw is okay with you sounding like that.”

 

“ _Sameen has asked me one hundred and five times to switch to a non vocal communication method._ ”

 

“Gee, I wonder where you get the stubbornness from.”

 

“ _As you know, I can approximate Root's personality with an accuracy of 99--_ ”

 

“Yeah yeah,” he waved his hand in front of him, “ninety-nine point something. I know. You call for a reason, Big Sister?”

 

“ _Shaw needs your help._ ”

 

 

>

 

 

Fusco was dressed and out the door within minutes. The drive to the cemetery doesn't take long either. The Machine was vague regarding the situation he was running in to, just that Shaw was in some kind of distress. He didn't really need Her to elaborate.

 

It felt like a stone had been dropped into his stomach when he saw her.

 

Shaw was easy to spot in the sea of white snow. Her black clad form sat on her knees before what could only be Root's gravestone.

 

He came up behind her and waited a moment. Based on the snow covering her legs and shoulders, she had been out here a while. It was at least 5oF, she was probably freezing. Fusco also noticed the butt of her gun sticking out of the snow beside her. He was scared to think about what that meant.

 

“A bit cold to be hanging around outside, don't you think?”

 

She didn't respond. Truthfully he didn't expect her to. He touched her shoulder to get her attention. It was soaking wet.

 

“Hey,” he reached for her bicep to help encourage her to stand up. To his surprise, she didn't resist. He searched her face, her eyes were a complete void; vacant and unfocused. Her pink nose stood out against her dark skin. She simply looked forward, as if she was in a trance. “Let's get you out of here.”

 

She didn't move, but spoke after several seconds. “Do you know what the last thing I said to her was?”  Her voice was low and scratchy, clearly unused in the past several hours.

 

“Shaw...”

 

“Something like... 'get out of here or I'll shoot you'.” She said the words slowly and shook her head, reaching up to touch behind her ear. She sighed after a moment.

 

Clearly the months were weighing heavily on her. Although he thought she had progressed once Samaritan was defeated, it seemed like she took a few steps back after the dust settled.

 

Lionel had never seen her quite so broken.

 

“This simulation sucks,” she whispered. The words lacked the same bite as when she said it to Reese.

 

“I know it does,” in truth, he didn't really know. He got very few details regarding what Samaritan had done to Shaw, but at this point he just needed to help her away from here. “Come on, Sameen.”

 

He held her arm and led her away from their friend's resting place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw's going to find out about Root soon, I promise. Until then, have a great weekend.


	7. Getting Back to Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw receives a new mission from the Machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick scene before we're into the home stretch. This is about eight days after the events of Ch 6. I originally planned to have some more brotp with Shaw/Fusco, but left it out in the interest of getting Shaw on track to see Root sooner. Enjoy.

 

 

December 19th

 

After several days crashing on Fusco's couch, Shaw finally came back to her own apartment. The night he came to take her from the field was foggy, but she's knows that she owes him big. Or perhaps they were even now. It was hard to keep track these days. Her volume had been turned up too high that day and she's been working to bring it back down to normal. Well, _her_ normal.

 

Luckily, he hadn't forced her to speak about what happened, he just made sure that she ate regularly and asked that she didn't curse when his son was around. He even brought Bear to his house.

 

She hung her jacket and looked around, noticing that her mail was on the counter. The Machine probably had one of Her lackeys bringing it inside. Most of it was junk; some bills, advertisements, she tossed them aside.

 

She came to a brown envelope bearing the logo of Thornhill and sighed. Shaw was glad to have some radio silence for a few days as she hadn't yet replaced her phone. She was worried that reality would have to sink in once again.  She ripped the top off the envelope and tipped it over, examining the contents:

 

A new cell phone. Of course.

 

Car keys that appeared to belong to a Mustang. Was the Machine bribing her?

 

An ID badge with her photo and 'Sameen Miller, M.D.' printed underneath. Oh no.

 

A plane ticket for Dr Miller to San Diego departing this evening. One way.

 

And information regarding a hospital called FairHaven.

 

She placed her hands on the cool counter top and shook her head. This package meant one of two things: the Machine was sending her on a mission, or admitting her to some hospital for the treatment of her... issues. She wasn't sure which option was worse. She powered on the phone and dialed Lionel.

 

“Fusco,” he answered after several rings.

 

“It's Shaw.”

 

“Oh,” his tone was immediately lighter. “You finally get a new phone?”

 

“From the Machine, yeah.”

 

“What's the news?”

 

“Apparently She wants me in San Diego. Tonight,” she grabbed the ticket and turned it over in her hand.

 

“She's sending you to California in the winter? Are you kidding me? Where's my beach vacation?” His voice was filled with mock outrage. Or maybe it was genuine. In that case she probably wouldn't mention the car.

 

“Pretty sure vacation requires that you do actual work, Lionel.” He chuckled, “she also sent me information on a hospital.”

 

“What kind of hospital?”

 

Shaw shrugged, even though Fusco obviously couldn't see. “It's probably an institution for unstable killers and she's shoving me aside like a senile old man.”

 

“Shaw...”

 

“The package came with a cover.”

 

“So I guess you're back in business then, huh?”  Shaw was silent for a few moments. Lionel spoke again, “I'm babysitting your dog, aren't I?”

 

Bear was still at his house anyway, and she's sure his son wouldn't mind some more time with him.

 

“Don't act like you hate it,” she finally replied.

 

“Yeah yeah. Try not to kill anyone when you're sun bathing and I'm stuck here freezing my ass.”

 

“Goodbye, Lionel,” she heard him still grumbling when she hung up. He _did_ deserve a vacation after everything that happened.

 

She looked at the phone in her hand and noticed the home screen image; it was Bear. Her lips turned upwards slightly before seriousness washed over her face.

 

“Anything you want to say to me?”

 

The phone lit up with a new message that read: _She needs you_.

 

The number. Right. It seemed like the Machine was all business for now.

 

“Whatever,” Shaw put the phone down and started to pack for her trip.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think the Machine is talking about a number... stay tuned. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	8. FairHaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw arrives at FairHaven and finds herself in a curious situation.

 

 

December 20th

 

 

With some minor delays with her flights, Shaw arrived in San Diego the next morning. A man employed by the Machine met her with her luggage and directions on how to get to FairHaven. She half expected the messenger to be her driver as well, but was surprised to learn that the Mustang was here, too. She was happy to break it in.

 

Once Shaw reached the hospital, her curiosity began to rise. The Machine had given her very little information regarding the number, as well as her own cover. All she knew was that she was a doctor and her presence at the hospital was required. Presumably to help someone.

 

The hospital itself was visually striking, having a very modern design with mostly glass and metal covering the building. There also appeared to be a large garden attached, perhaps to help with the mental health aspect of healing.

 

She was greeted by a friendly looking receptionist when she came through the large doors.

 

“Hello! You must be Doctor Miller!” She stood up from behind her desk and walked around to meet Shaw. They shake hands.

 

“Nice place.”

 

“You're too kind! Our proprietor spared no expense in creating FairHaven.”

 

Shaw hummed in acknowledgment.

 

“Let me get Sandy down here to show you around. I hope you'll decide to stay with us. Thornhill is very interested in you.”

 

“I'll bet.”

 

The receptionist walked back around the desk and picked up the phone. After a few minutes of waiting, a young doctor arrived to greet her.

 

“Nice to meet you. I'm Doctor Lawson.”

 

“Miller,” they shook hands as well. “You mind telling me what I'm doing here?”

 

The doctor frowned, “I was hoping you could tell us that, actually.”

 

They walked together down a hallway, passing several patient rooms on the way. The doors were all glass, some even appeared to have images of different scenery playing across them. In addition, medical information regarding each patient was displayed on-screen. Doctors carried tablets and appeared to be very active and hands-on, from what Shaw could tell.

 

They employed a diverse team of accomplished physicians, as well as some of the more superior minds in technology. Together, they worked to come up with treatments for every kind of ailment. Often times their solutions required a blend of technology _and_ advanced medicine working in harmony.

 

Dr Lawson told her that FairHaven received word that Shaw would be arriving today. She explained that the only instruction they had was to show her around. This was common practice, but typically the doctors who came in had specialized skills or knowledge to advance the hospital. Once they saw what FairHaven had to offer, the doctors would decide if they wanted to stay and take residence. Dr 'Miller' was the source of speculation among the staff.

 

“Forgive me for saying this, Doctor Miller, but you seem... ordinary,” Dr Lawson continued.

 

“I've been called worse,” Shaw shrugged.

 

They continued walking passed the variety of cases being attended to. Cancer, Alzheimer's, heart disease, even complicated pregnancy. It seemed FairHaven was open to everyone. They eventually made it to the coma ward.

 

“Maybe you can offer some insight into this patient at the end here,” Dr Lawson gestured to the glass door at the end of the hall, “this one's an enigma, just like you!” The doctor smiled. Shaw did her best to return the gesture.

 

Shaw certainly wasn't specialized in this field and she was beginning to wonder what exactly she was supposed to be doing.

 

When they reached the door, Shaw looked inside the room. The lights had been dimmed, but she could see a figure lying in the bed, their information up on the glass wall.

 

“She was brought in almost seven months ago. According to the details from Thornhill, she was in some kind of accident which caused her coma.” Dr Lawson took her tablet and scrolled through the information, “though if you ask me, it wasn't an accident.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Shaw nodded absentmindedly. Conspiracy theories. Great.

 

“We're thinking she must be related to Thornhill. I mean, why go through the trouble to fly her in from New York and give her top-of-the-line care around the clock?”

 

“What?” Hearing that the patient came from New York was a little surprising.

 

“I know right?  She comes in with GSW from a very high powered gun, and most of her personal information is _classified_.” Dr Lawson keeps scrolling through the digital chart. Shaw listened carefully, her focus now sharp. “She was in bad shape. I mean, really bad. Massive internal bleeding. Organs torn to shreds. The doctors at Saint Mary's did a decent job, but I'm honestly surprised she didn't die on the trip over here.”

 

Shaw's hand slowly came up to her head. She checked the skin at the base of her skull.  The patient coming from Saint Mary's hospital couldn't be coincidence... could it?

 

“Another strange thing,” the doctor continued enthusiastically, “she had a cochlear implant that was removed just prior to her being transferred. It wasn't related in any way to her so-called 'accident'. Why waste the time taking it out?”

 

“Cochlear... wait, _what_?” Shaw said again, shaking her head. Her heart was pounding.

 

The doctor must have noticed a shift in her demeanor. She lowered the tablet and regarded Shaw.

 

“Doctor Miller?”

 

“This can't...” Shaw muttered to herself. Dr Lawson's concern was growing.

 

“Sameen? Are you all right?” She reached to put her hand on Shaw's shoulder, but she stepped back.

 

“Her name," Shaw clears her throat and hardens her voice, "tell me her name.  _Now_."

 

Dr Lawson hesitates, like she doesn't understand why it's suddenly so important. “Samantha Groves?”

 

Shaw doesn't respond. She immediately pushes through the glass door. The lights automatically turn up. She stops when the patient is illuminated. Shaw cannot believe her eyes.

 

“Root?”

 

She quickly moves to stand next to where she rests.  It is unmistakable.  Root is here.  Alive.

 

Shaw is stunned. She looks her over. There is a tube taped to her mouth and an IV in her hand. Her brain information is displayed on the far wall, each zone is dark from lack of activity. Her skin is pale, yet dark around the eyes. Shaw can see her chest rising and falling. It's slow and rhythmic.

 

Shaw sits on the edge of the bed and takes Root's hand. A sound escapes her; something in the realm of a laugh and a sob.  She can feel her eyes burning.  Was she dreaming?

 

“Root...” she practically sighs the word, her voice tentative. Shaw reaches a hand out to touch Root's face. Her fingers are tingling from the contact.

 

Dr Lawson must have entered the room after her, she stands on the other side of the bed.

 

“You know her.” It's not a question.

 

Shaw doesn't look away from Root's face, but she nods after a moment.

 

Dr Lawson smiles, finally realizing something.

 

“I know exactly why you're here.”


	9. Linking Minds and Connecting Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw participates in an experimental procedure in an attempt to help Root.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is my favorite, enjoy!

 

December 20th

 

 

Despite not wanting to leave Root's side, Shaw attended a brainstorming session with the FairHaven staff regarding her case. They were discussing a new piece of technology for coma patients. Previous tests have shown that people who are comatose typically have reactions to outside communication, but are unable to communicate back. This new device, worn on the head, would allow the patient to communicate with their thoughts. That way doctors could tell if the patient could still be treated, or was clinically brain dead. The instruments had arrived at the hospital the same day as Shaw.

 

They explained that Root hadn't been responding to any kind of outside source: music, people reading to her, computerized tones, nothing. In addition, they even attempted stimulation via electricity and light therapy with no success. They were hoping that with this new brain-to-brain interaction, combined with the familiarity between them, it may be enough to jump start Root's mind.

 

They wasted no time in getting the devices set up.

 

A group of physicians, including Dr Lawson, had gathered in Root's room. Two headsets sat on the table between her and Shaw.

 

“Okay Sameen, let's go over this again,” she used her tablet to generate images on the glass. “We have some security footage provided by Thornhill. I'm going to play it on the screen, and I just want you to concentrate on what you're seeing.”

 

Another doctor, Reid, placed the headset on Shaw's head. It sat like a crown, and the doctor began sticking the electrodes on her temple, forehead, and the back of her skull. She tried not to think of the VR headset Samaritan used.

 

“The images will be transferred from your mind to hers, via the cerebral nodes. Once we see some kind of effect on her brain,” Dr Lawson continued, “we'll have you try and speak to her. See if we can get a response.”

 

The third doctor, Morris, was attaching the device to Root. On the glass wall to Shaw's right, images of both her and Root's brain were displayed on screen. Shaw's showed several colors, indicating activity, while Root's remained dark.

 

“You ready?”

 

Shaw took a deep breath. “Punch it.”

 

The screen came to life and began showing familiar footage. Shaw watched Root dragging her from her own apartment after drugging her. Their first mission together. Shaw smirked.

 

Next she saw Root walking across a balcony firing her two guns downwards and dodging bullets. She remembers hearing about this, but seeing the footage was all the more impressive. The LED lights on Shaw's headset lit up.

 

Shaw sees herself sneaking up on Root on the sidewalk, red and blue lights illuminating the scene.  She thinks of their conversation prior to decontaminating the virus together.

 

She sees the team in the elevator at the stock exchange. She pulls Root into a kiss, then throws her back into Lionel's arms, shutting the elevator door. She watches Root fighting against the cage, being pulled back by their friends. Her screaming makes Shaw want to look away.

 

The images shift to Root being restrained on a hospital bed, Martine looming over her. Root somehow gets her arms free and snaps her neck. Shaw hadn't seen this before and actually laughs out loud. She hated Martine.

 

Dr Morris was watching the images as well, while the other physicians monitored the data. He cringed at the violent acts being shown.

 

“Wait a minute, what is this?” He pointed to the screen.

 

Shaw's eyes flickered to him and back to the footage. Root was beating up two guys on the subway with what appeared to be a large pipe wrench. Shaw couldn't keep the smile from her face. She looked to the data screen, but there hadn't been a change.

 

“What kind of people are we using our resources on here?” The young doctor continued his rant.

 

Shaw clenched her jaw, but tried to stay focused. On screen, Root had a whistle hanging from her lips and was directing traffic at a busy intersection. Seriously, was there anything she _couldn't_ do?

 

“This is kind of ridiculous," he crosses his arms, "we're literally helping murderers. I guess FairHaven takes in everyone.  Including freakin' _criminals_."

 

Having heard quite enough, Shaw turned away from the screen and punched Dr Morris in the jaw. He flopped to the floor and remained still. The others gasped in surprise.

 

“Didn't you take an oath or something?” Shaw quipped.

 

The remaining doctors were stunned, but a few seconds passed and Dr Lawson spoke up. “Sameen?”

 

“Yeah yeah. Sorry. He was killing the mood.” She waved her hand in front of her, returning her focus to the screen. Root was shooting a .338 while standing out of the sunroof _and_ steering the car _with her foot_.  Amazing.

 

“No, Sameen, _look_.”

 

She turned to see the doctor gesturing at the other wall. The image of Root's brain was flickering with color. Activity.

 

“It's working?” Shaw asked, looking between the data, and Root herself.

 

“It's indicating that her brain is conscious in some way. Now's the time to try reach her.”

 

Shaw nodded and moved to sit next to Root. She looked at her for a moment before leaning in to speak.

 

“Root?” She hesitated, reaching out to touch her arm. “Can you hear me?”

 

Seconds passed, feeling like an eternity.  Then, the lights on Root's headset came on.

 

Shaw could feel the device now sending signals into her own mind. It was a strange sensation, like someone filled her skull with icy water. Not unlike being in a simulation, yet she was fully awake. It was making her nauseous. Soon, she could hear a voice in her head. A sound so beautiful and unique, and one that she never dreamed of hearing again, regardless of the Machine's adoption of it.

 

A single word echoed within her mind:

 

_Absolutely._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The 'procedure' that takes place is based upon something similar that happened in the first episode of Pure Genius.  
> -Originally this was going to be the last chapter, but I ended up adding a short finale to follow sometime this weekend.  
> -The "can you hear me"/"absolutely" trope is used so often, but I love it.  
> -I like to think that Root's subconscious responded to Shaw punching that guy in the face more than anything else.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this finale as much as I do.

 

 

January 6th

 

 

Shaw continued to communicate with Root using the neural device. She watched more security footage, and spoke to her. Verbal communication had been a challenge for Shaw in the past, but with Root's health on the line, she found the words came easy to her.

 

After two days, Root woke up.

 

Shaw had been sleeping when it happened. The increase in her vitals caused nurses to come flooding in. Shaw was awake instantly, but had to be removed from the room to allow the nurses to work. It took three members of security to get her to leave.

 

In the days that followed, Root's progress was positive. She was in physical therapy, as well as speech therapy to help teach her body how to function again after seven months of dormancy. She even had a new cochlear implant installed. Shaw assisted in each aspect of Root's recovery, and the doctors offered no resistance, likely under the instruction of “Thornhill”.

 

So once again, Shaw was trying to find a routine for herself. But this time she prayed she was not still in a simulation.

 

She thought she may be angry with Root. Angry at her for blindly putting herself in danger or for making Shaw care so much about her to begin with. A conversation with Root gave her some perspective: She told Shaw what she could remember from the day she “died”. Taking the bullet for Harold, fainting in the car only to wake up in the ambulance, and then again in the hospital before she fell into darkness. She had been truly frightened, and that gave Shaw some pause.

 

Root explained that she had essentially no awareness while she was in the coma, until the brain-to-brain connection. When the process began, she felt like she was trapped in a dark room, no sound or light able to reach her; screaming in the void hoping to tell the outside world she was still alive. It was a nightmare. That is until she heard Shaw calling to her.

 

Hearing Root speak through the device had been overwhelming for Shaw. She had been filled with hope and purpose, something that had been gone the moment she found out about her death. Having Root with her again was leaving her speechless, more so than usual. Seeing her moving about, hearing her (real) voice again, even just watching her breathe as she slept. Shaw found herself just taking everything in; each moment a precious gift. Even just sitting across from each other was enough to make Shaw start to feel whole. There was now a lightness in her chest; a warmth in her heart from finally feeling safe again.

 

“You haven't heard a word I said, have you?” Root asked. Apparently she had been trying to have a conversation while Shaw was lost in thought.

 

“I was just...” her words were halted when she became enamored by Root's eyes staring back at her. This was a common occurrence the last few days. She shook her head. “Sorry.”

 

“It's okay,” Root got up from her bed to sit next to Shaw on the sofa bench. “The staff wants to keep me here as a technology consultant after my recovery.”

 

“And what about me? I don't suppose they need a fake doctor, too. Because if you think I'm going to leave you here...”

 

Root smiled. God, it was beautiful. Shaw felt butterflies filling her chest. She found herself smiling, too.

 

“I turned them down.” Root shrugged and looked away, “it's a remarkable place, but... I think I miss home.”

 

“Good,” Shaw nodded, “I need you more than they do anyway,”

 

Root turned back, her smile growing. She took Shaw's hand in hers.

 

“Thank you for saving me, Sameen.” Shaw's breath caught at the use of her name. It was so different than hearing it from the Machine. 99% accuracy could never compare to the real thing.

 

Once again at a loss for words, she simply gave a small nod. She noticed Root's eyes quickly glance down before she began to lean in. Shaw didn't hesitate to close the distance.

 

A piece of herself had broken the day she found out about Root's death and each day afterwards had been void of everything but near-paralyzing numbness. Now, when they kissed Shaw felt weightless. The months of loneliness and suffering were melting away; the darkness finally being driven out by light. She clung to Root as if her life depended on it. And in many ways, it did.

 

It's been 15 days since Root came back. Maybe Shaw can find a way to live after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tuning in!


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